


Assassins

by Engineer104



Series: Royal Flush - a Prompt Fill Collection [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), Diplomacy, Drama, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Gen, from season 4/5 or so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 10:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16852618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Allura tries to go about business as usual, despite their "guest"





	Assassins

**Author's Note:**

> Another old one-shot i never posted to ao3!!
> 
> originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/169804745043/gen-fic-with-lotura-if-you-squint-for)

A storm brewed in Rigel Seven’s atmosphere, dark and heavy and full of promise, though Allura couldn’t say what, exactly, that promise would be. She dared to hope it would be good, but she wasn’t naïve enough not to expect the worst.

As the Castle descended to Rigel Seven’s surface – a desert landscape hidden beneath rare, dense clouds – Coran verbally reviewed the information she would need – or that  _he_ thought she would need – while treating with the leader of the ruling faction. Allura tuned him out for the most part, focusing most of her attention on holding the Castle of Lions steady against the forces of the storm. Lightning violently arced across the sky, ends vanishing far below and likely striking the ground, but the Castle’s shields protected its passengers from even the slightest hint of charge.

Allura still imagined the scorched scent of ozone, despite the controlled air inside, still thought the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end with electricity. Perhaps if she touched a metal surface, static would jolt her, causing energy to dance along her skin, so much like quintessence that—

“Princess?” Coran said.

Allura flinched, turning her head and blinking at him; she hadn’t realized she’d been so lost in thought that he noticed. “Coran?” she prompted.

“Did you hear  _anything_ I said?” Coran demanded. He shifted his feet, crossing his arms and tapping fingers against them while a frustrated puff of air stirred his mustache.

The sight was so familiar to Allura that she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. “I’m afraid I did not,” she admitted. “I was piloting.”

“Yes, because piloting the Castle takes as much mental concentration as piloting the Blue Lion,” Coran supplied sardonically.

Allura smiled, face warm with embarrassment. “It takes a fair amount, especially landing.”

Coran twirled his mustache. “Well, so long as we can all walk out of this meeting with our lives intact and with an alliance, I shall offer no complaint.”

Allura wrinkled her nose very slightly; this spiel of Coran’s was, of course, not the first she’d heard about the Rigellians’ dominant party, and she doubted it would be the last of he had anything to say about it. She approached with great wariness, especially since all but one of the Lions, along with their respective Paladins, was away from the Castle on their own missions. All she had within easy distance for support was the Castle itself, the Blue Lion, Coran, and…Prince Lotor.

She was still unsure exactly what to make of  _Zarkon’s son_ , especially when she learned he was half-Altean.

Allura’s hand tightened into fists, knuckles whitening. She’d thought she and Coran were the last ones…

“The Rigellians will not be a problem,” Allura reassured Coran as she finally landed the Castle just outside the limits of their capital.

Usually thin metal spires with upper levels connected by bridges would rise from the stony ground, but on a stormy day like this one, clouds obscured even the middle levels of the skyscrapers, not a hint of sunlight reflecting off a glass window or metallic surface.

“I still think we should have invited them aboard,” Coran said.

Allura bit her lip, and bit back a short response. “And I still think we make a better show of good will if we meet them on their own ground, where they’re most comfortable.” She led Coran from the bridge and down through the entryway, but her ears caught the sound of footsteps just behind her. She paused, bringing herself and Coran up short of the Castle’s grand entrance, and glanced over her shoulder to see Lotor standing at the top of the stairs.

“I trust you can provide your own entertainment while we are gone, Prince Lotor,” Allura told him stiffly. She knew the mice would watch him in her absence, and that  _he_ knew, and so had little reason to suspect him of foul play even without the Paladins there to help.

“I asked you not to use that title,” Lotor retorted neutrally. He slowly walked the steps until they stood on level ground.

Allura watched every movement, back straight and shoulders stiff. “Then what, exactly, should I call you?” she wondered.

“My name serves the purpose,” he said. “That  _is_ , I suppose, why my parents gave me one, so that I would have something by which people could call me while a fugitive.”

Allura pinched her lips together, trying not to show that she was amused by his comment despite herself. “Very well,  _Lotor_ ,” she said, “though I’m afraid I have no time for you now. I’m due for a meeting with General Sahr.”

“About that, Princess,” Lotor said, raising an arm as if to touch her shoulder before reconsidering. “General Sahr has only recently come into power after an insurgency against a pro-Empire government, so he will be… _wary_ of anything you might offer him.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, I was at the briefings,” she said, “and it seems as if you were as well.”

Lotor smiled. “I was curious.”

“I’m sure you were.”

They stared at each other for a few long tics, Allura frowning and cautious and Lotor smiling and a little  _hopeful_ , she suspected. But she needed to do this alone.

Allura turned on her heel and beckoned for Coran, who’d watched the conversation silently with an odd, thoughtful expression on his face. “I thank you for your advice, Lotor, but I’m afraid I must leave you behind.”

“As you wish, Princess,” Lotor said, with a hint of disappointment that Allura wondered if she imagined.

She put it out of her mind for now, instead stalking towards the Castle entrance with Coran forced to widen his steps to keep up with her. The doors slid open at her approach, a sudden gust of damp wind nearly knocking her off her feet and plastering her dress against her body, but she pumped her arms with a renewed and  _vested_ interest to see this alliance go through. So what if she’d originally contacted the foreign minister of the previous,  _pro-Empire_ government? So what if she had to now deal with a Rigellian she had reason to suspect was a  _military dictator_?

Allura scowled, shielding her face against the steady stream of water droplets falling from the sky and wishing she’d had the foresight to wear her pink Paladin armor. The better to look intimidating and impressive to a general, someone who would know strength when she saw it.

“Perhaps Lotor had some valuable insights,” Coran offered.

“I’m sure he has many,” Allura conceded reluctantly, “but I don’t need them.”

A party of Rigellians awaited her beneath a temporary shelter, a fabric awning that shielded them from the rain. Their dark coppery skin didn’t shine like she’d half-expected, and even their helmets looked dull. In fact, between their armor of rusting chain mail and windblown appearance, they scarcely seemed a race that invented space travel.

Her hands tightened into fists, and she remembered General Sahr’s explanation of their struggle against the last government, that hoarded and coveted resources for the few; this was just what they  _had_ , Allura thought, and they must’ve consciously decided to maintain a humble appearance.

Aside from their armor, Rigellians had curious long, thick eyelashes and two sets of eyelids. Their eyes were cloudy with cataracts, and Allura guessed they could all be at least partially blind, which seemed odd for warriors. Most had black hair, texture ranging from thin and straight, bangs poking out from underneath helmets, to thick and curly.

A Rigellian with a helmet tucked under her arm stepped forward and rested a hand against her armored chest. Unsmilingly, she greeted her, “Well met, Princess Allura.” Cloudy black eyes flashed, unfocused, up towards her face. “I am General Sahr, the interim leader of Rigel Seven while we establish a new government.”

“Well met, General,” Allura said. She smiled and mimicked the hand-to-chest gesture. “Will we be negotiating out here in the storm?”

“This weather is unseasonable,” General Sahr admitted, “so we must return to the city. We brought our hoverpods, and you and your attendant can ride with me.”

“We would be happy to,” Allura said pleasantly. She followed General Sahr towards the small collection of mismatched pods beyond the awning, which a few unarmored Rigellians, unnoticed earlier, quickly dismantled and loaded into the back of a hoverpod smaller than the rest.

General Sahr climbed into the back of a hoverpod with scraped white paint, Allura stepping in behind her. She was then dismayed to see that the interior of the pod was much smaller than she’d thought from the outside, so Coran was forced to sit in the front along with the driver.

Allura pinched her thigh as she sat, freezing her smile in place and hoping it didn’t have a nervous edge to it. At least in here they were out of the wind and wet, she reminded herself as the driver took off towards the city. At least in here she could begin to reason with General Sahr, to warm her up to the idea of the Coalition without mentioning her…predecessors.

General Sahr proved resistant to small talk, only answering Allura’s polite queries with a few words or less. Allura grew frustrated with each response that wasn’t followed up with a question of her own, and became more and more convinced that she was not dealing with a diplomat but with a soldier, someone effective as a leader of a single planet, perhaps, but not as a representative amongst a group of leaders.

“I had hoped to catch a glimpse of one of the famed beasts,” General Sahr then said, startling Allura out of the stony silence she’d descended into after another single-word reply.

Allura perked up hopefully. “Oh, I might be able to arrange that after our meeting,” she promised. “I’m afraid all but the one are away, unfortunately.”

“One is more than enough,” General Sahr reassured her.

Allura grinned as the hoverpod slowed to a halt. She disembarked ahead of the general, who waved for her to precede her out, and stepped onto a tiled pathway covered by a wide awning that spanned the entire street. The soft patter of water echoed through the sort of tunnel formed, while a slower wind than out in the open stirred the hem of Allura’s dress. Here the humidity lent an almost pleasant warmth to the air, and Allura found herself smiling a little wider as Coran rejoined her.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“So far, so good,” she said with a nod while they followed General Sahr and the rest of the Rigellian party into a building labeled with an alphabet that she couldn’t read.

The building itself was quite grand, because rather than metallic buildings that sought to touch the sky, this one emitted a sense of tradition, with a wide domed roof and narrow towers at its four corners. A government building, Allura thought, and an old one at that.

Allura climbed the stairs, Coran just behind her. Something like delight coursed through her, but another feeling – a sense of the mice in the back of her head, perhaps an animalistic instinct that even the most sapient of beings couldn’t quench – kept her on her toes, made her aware that something still felt distinctly  _wrong_  about this.

“Is this a museum?” Allura asked a random Rigellian that kept pace with her and Coran.

He blinked all his eyelids at her, as if surprised she addressed him, then nodded and said, “According to General Sahr, it is a relic of the old way.”

Allura raised an eyebrow at him. “It documents your history then,” she said.

He nodded, an odd jerky movement, but offered no more.

Allura frowned and glanced at Coran. “There’s something odd here.”

“I agree,” he said, “which is why I wish—”

“I know,” Allura interrupted, “but it does no good to think of that now, not while we’re already here.”

The Rigellians led the way into a long room full of, sure enough, exhibits, everything from stone tablets to paper documents encased in glass. She glanced over them curiously, ultimately unsurprised when she couldn’t glean the meaning of a single word – if she couldn’t read modern Rigellian, then surely their ancient language would be far beyond her.

Taking quick steps to pass most of the group, Allura pulled up beside General Sahr. “Where are we going?” she wondered.

“There is a gathering of citizens behind the museum,” General Sahr explained. “I will address them and explain your presence. They will be alarmed after seeing your Castle descend from the sky.”

Allura frowned. “But the storm will have masked our arrival,” she said. “I understand the importance of transparency, General, but surely this can wait till after—”

“It cannot,” the general interrupted with a jerky nod. An unarmored attendant pushed open a set of blue double doors ahead of them, and the sound of a crowd greeted them, loud enough to nearly overpower the sound of the raging storm.

General Sahr stepped outside and onto a stage. She approached a podium, and Allura and Coran lingered closer to the doorway, a little more sheltered from the wind despite the street here also being covered.

General Sahr spoke to the crowd, giving a surprisingly impassioned speech about the necessity of change and freedom from wealthy oppressors. The crowds cheered her on, waving their arms and applauding when she paused to breathe. But then she stepped away from the podium, gesturing for Allura to approach.

“And now, my beloved,  _free_  citizens,” General Sahr said to her people, “I invite you to decide for yourself if you wish to follow this  _Voltron Coalition_. Are we to subjugate ourselves to someone else so soon after being freed of men that would’ve had us scraping for the Galra Empire’s approval?”

“What?” Allura said, eyes widening in shock. Distantly she felt Coran’s hand on her shoulder, fingers digging into her skin, but her heart pounded in her ears, almost drowning out the raucousness of the crowd – the  _mob_ , it now seemed – and the storm. The wind tore the breath from her lungs, or it escaped her in a gasp as she found herself standing at the podium, facing down a now-silent audience hostile to her.

Allura cleared her throat and struggled to gather her thoughts. Was that  _really_ what General Sahr thought of the Voltron Coalition? Irrational tears pricked at her eyes, but she tightly gripped the edge of the podium, stiffening her back and her resolve.

She needed to salvage this,  _desperately_.

“People of Rigel Seven,” Allura began, speaking in the loud, clear voice her father and Coran both taught her would project confidence, “I speak to you not as a leader today, but as a beggar, and not on behalf of the Voltron Coalition—”

“Liar!” someone close to the front shouted.

Despite a few others taking up their cry, Allura plowed on, “—but on behalf of another planet that suffered at the hands of the Empire long before yours. I am from—”

This time, the scream that rang out succeeded in interrupting her, and, as if in slow motion, a Rigellian with their face covered shot out of the crowd on a small hovercraft. They raised a blaster—

“ _Princess!_ ” Coran screamed.

A tall figure leapt from the crowd, tackling the would-be assassin to the ground. The surrounding Rigellians shrunk away, shrieking in alarm, and General Sahr dispatched a security team towards the altercation.

Allura meanwhile stared out in shock, at least until General Sahr appeared at her shoulder. “Is that something to do with you?” she demanded, pointing angrily at the crowd now being forcibly dispersed.

General Sahr slowly blinked at her, cloudy eyes shining more than before, and she said, “It was not, Princess.”

Allura crossed her arms. “And how am I supposed to believe that after the speech you just gave?”

The general pressed a hand to her forehead in an apparent sign of distress. “Princess, you must believe me when I say I wanted my  _people_ to choose based on your words, not for one man to decide he knew already what we should do.”

“ _You_ are in charge, General,” Allura said, prodding her in the shoulder, “temporary or not, and it is up to you to decide—”

“General!” an armored Rigellian climbing the stage interrupted as they approached. Another four Rigellian soldiers followed, each pair bearing a heavy burden. Two carried the attempted assassin, their face now uncovered, while the other two—

“Prince Lotor?” Allura gasped, staring at the newcomer. But a fresh wave of anger displaced her shock, and she scowled at him and asked, “What the quiznak are you doing here?”

Lotor raised his head and pushed the Rigellians that held him off. They acquiesced and let him go at a nod from General Sahr, and he said, “Reminding you not to call me that, and saving your life as well, apparently.”

“How did you know?” Allura said, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously. She rested her hands on her hips, anticipating having to verbally wrestle him for an honest answer.

Lotor grimaced and said, “I did not, but I suspected that Rigel Seven wouldn’t take kindly to you if they thought you were trying to impose your will on them.” He glanced at General Sahr, but when she neither confirmed nor denied this, he said, “It seems I was right about at least one fool.” He nodded towards the assassin, who was already being dragged into the museum, perhaps for more questioning.

Allura crossed her arms and glanced at Coran.

Coran sighed and said, “I think you owe him your gratitude.”

Allura frowned but bowed her head to Lotor. “Thank you,” she said, trying to soften her voice, “for saving my life.” Her eyes snapped up to his face, and she stiffly added, “Even if you left the Castle to do it after I warned you not to.” She bit her lip and thought,  _I just hope no one here recognizes who exactly you are._

“Now,” she said, straightening and rounding General Sahr, “I believe you and I should continue our negotiations  _privately_.”

General Sahr nodded. Then, to Allura’s surprise – and a hint of delight – she smiled. “Yes,” she said, “and I think you would do well to keep this protector of yours with you.”

“He’s not my—” Allura cut herself off and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I suppose I should,” she agreed reluctantly. She followed General Sahr inside, and this time both Coran and Lotor came with her.


End file.
